Reconciliation

Reconciliation
by Vivian Gilbert Zabel


The man, stooped and bent by life,
Gazes at the grave beside his feet.
As unknown tears streak his cheeks,
A weathered hand touches the stone
With the words so dear engraved.

“I still miss you, my love,”
He whispers, stroking her name.
“All say that time will heal
The pain and loss I feel, someday,
But my heart still bleeds agony.”

A balmy breeze teases thinning hair
While drying tears from his face.
The elderly man never notices
As his mind visits the memories
That tantalize him day and night:

His wife, fifty years before, waving
From the porch as he left for work;
An infant snuggled, cradled in her arms
While she sang a family lullaby;
The scent of her body’s own perfume.

He can feel the silk of her skin,
Although his fingers touch cold marble.
His heartbeat slows, stutters, and stops
As his body slumps across the grass
So that he sleeps once again by her side.

© Copyright 2005 Vivian ╰☆╮ (UN: vzabel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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